Promise
by MistroStrings
Summary: I knew what my duty was. I had to kill men like this- men who wanted to be with other men. I was supposed to laugh at him, make him feel worthless. Show him what a real man was like. But, I couldn't. Not him. WWII Nazi/Jew story Warning: Gay
1. Intro

Everything about him was beautiful. I remember the way his mouth would slightly curl up at the corners when he was happy. They rarely did that, after a few weeks in the camp. I could see him smile at me though. He tried to sneak a few in a day, not wanting to be caught.

I smiled at him too. One of my men asked me once why I was beaming. I hadn't realized how big of a smile I was wearing when I looked at him. My duty was to kill these men. To beat them and torture them, because to us they are dirt. I couldn't possibly smile at them. I stopped my beaming and got back to work.

I love him. Never, could I hurt him. Not once, did I either. That was my mistake. Yet, every blow that I took for him, I'm glad I did. Nothing pays off in the end, it seems. All the hard work and misery we go through to get what we want… Well, we never really get it, do we?


	2. One: Prayers

(I did some research. So, hopefully I've gotten much of this stuff right. Right being the statistics, the looks, as well as well as all of the organizations. In loving memory of every innocent man and woman killed in the Concentration Camps during WWII.)

I have always had, and always will have a respect for human life. None the less, I was not a Jew, therefore when I was only 10 years of age I was admitted into the Hitler Youth. My first stage was to be in the; "Deutsches Jungvolk", known in English as "German Young People". I thought it was a game. I was separated from my sister, who was learning how to be a mother. My mind hopelessly lost in daydreams, I was assured that I would see her every week, but that didn't happen.

By the time I was thirteen, I still hadn't understood. Boys around me would laugh and criticize whenever someone said the words; "Jew" or "Gypsy" and even "Homosexual." My mind was filled with adoration for all people, but I was much too weak to tell the other boys to stop. At that point, I was moved to the Hitler Jugend; Hitler Youth. After only a few months of learning marching, bayonet drilling, grenade throwing, trench digging, map reading, gas defense, use of dugouts, and how to get away from barbed wire and pistol shooting, I realized that my life would most likely be changing for good.

I recall I certain memory very clearly. It was late at night, I was out with my friends, and we were walking back to the school after a fine night of parties and girls. I remember us walking down an alley way. I stopped to tie my shoe. "Come on, Kagan!" I heard one of my friends shout ahead of me. "We're just going to keep walking, with or without you!" They snickered and began to run away as I continued to tie my shoe.

"Hold on!" I shouted, finishing the knot. When I looked up, they were already gone and I was in the alley way alone. Annoyed, I sighed heavily, shouting loudly so they could here me; "Ahh, Verpiss Dich!" Trudging my feet along, I headed down the alley. I could faintly hear jazz music coming from a club downtown, a settle tune on a clear evening.

I ran my hands through my greasy blonde hair. _Perhaps I should hurry up, and take a shower._ My attention suddenly turned to a poster on the brick wall of the alley. It was a young woman, smiling, and her hair was twisted into perfect pig tails. She seemed so incredibly happy, the Nazi Germany flag flying proudly behind her. Underneath it read; "Every girl belongs to us." Furiously, I crumpled the clean poster in my fist, throwing it on the ground. Then I continued to walk.

That night I said a prayer for that girl. I said a prayer for them, and for all of the girls, and all of the boys in the Hitler Youth. I even prayed for the ones who claimed that they wanted to be there, because of their futility and inability to not notice the monsters that they were becoming.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~

I stared at the man in front of me. "The year is 1942, August. You are Jewish prisoner 56,345. Your serial number will be the same." I looked up at him. His head was down, his eyes wide. He seemed lost in thought, but he didn't seem scared. Sighing, I smacked his cheek. "Look at me when I'm talking to you." Tilting his head upwards, he had a handsome face. I cringed to think of what it would look like in a few short weeks. "What is your name, Jew?"

He flinched, nervously rubbing his hand on the side of his pant leg. "My name is Abel." He whispered, shifting his eyes back to the ground. Grumbling, I fiercely grabbed his shoulder, turning him to the side. He had a pink triangle with a yellow triangle beneath it.

"You are a homosexual Jew?" I frowned, scratching my head. "You're not even a Pole. That's surprising." I slipped my pen back into the clipboard. "Most of the homosexuals seem to come from Poland." Shrugging, I raised a brow.

He looked up at me with a disapproving frown. He obviously didn't like to be teased about that. Working there had really made me into more of a bitter man. When was the last time I was with a woman, anyways? One of the Prisoner Guards approached me. When he saw the badge on the boy's arm, he began to laugh loudly. I stood awkwardly next to him, beginning to feel uncomfortable. "Would you look at him? How old are you boy? Hm?"

The boy raised his head to meet the guard's eyes. "I am twenty one, sir."

"You're twenty one and you're homosexual?" He grinned a disgusting yellow grin, patting me on the back. "Well, Kagan. Doesn't that just make you smile?" I shrugged, unamused by his buoyant manner. He was being terribly rude. "What's his name?" I looked back at my paper and dully told him his name. "Abel! No wonder he's homosexual! My, it is really a shame for a man to be so young and have such a hard burden on him. Have you ever been with a woman, boy?"

Rubbing his eyes tiredly, he nodded.

This made the guard laugh even more. "I guess he didn't like _that_ every much!" He chuckled, nudging me in the arm. Groaning, I grabbed the boy's thin wrists and pulled him over to us. "Take him to get branded, Guard. You're still a prisoner," I said harshly, glaring. "So keep your tongue in place." He frowned, snarling, snatching the young boy's wrist from me. I faced him once more before he went to get tattooed. "Welcome to Treblinka."


	3. Two: Different

Treblinka was a concentration camp in the forests of northeastern Poland. It consisted of men and women from Poland, Germany, Austria, France, Greece, and other places that I can't remember very well. I never noticed the different accents or the different ways they expressed themselves. All I noticed after working in the camp was how all of their bodies looked the same. They were all just walking skeletons.

Every once and a while I am sent on duty to go and fetch the Jews from the train that carry them into the town. I do not play rough with them, I do not beat them or scowl at them like the other men do. I simply help them off from the train, and walk them silently down the road and to the camp. Ocassionally one of them will whisper a hesitant thank you to me, and I was respond;

"You're welcome. Once we get to the camp however, those words do not exist to me, understood Jew?"

When I wasn't bringing Jews into the camp, I was checking them off, assigning them numbers. IT was a dull job, but it was my duty. I went to school to work in these camps, and that was what I'd do. It's not to say that I didn't flinch every time I watched someone get beaten, and it's not to say I didn't rush in the bathroom and weep after I watched a young woman get shot.

My leaders knew of my weakness, but they said nothing. They laughed at me, but they said nothing. I didn't care. I was proud that I had a passion for human life. It was the right way to live. It honestly was.

The morning after I had assigned men numbers the day before, I was called into my commander's office. SS-Obersturmfuhrer Franz Stangl was his name. He was blunt, and in my opinion, sick, just as the other men I worked with. "I'm assigning you to bunk duty today."

I raised a brow, my hands folded behind my back. Bunk duty? I never got that job. "Very well sir," I nodded strongly, lifting my hand upwards and saying the Nazi salute. As I left the corridors, I mumbled a silent prayer in my head for God to forgive me. I always did after a salute.

As I headed through the wooded areas towards the bunks, I sighed heavily in the woodland air. How could something so horrible be placed in such a lovely area? The bunks were approaching and I put on my angry face, and pulled open the door rather abruptly. The Jews were in their bunks. They all stopped talking instantly and looked down at their hands. "What?" I snapped, glaring at them all. "I didn't say a word. I did not say that you couldn't. Don't make me uncomfortable; speak."

Hesitantly people began to speak with one another, and eventually conversations were flowing about families and past times. I leaned against a wall, peeling my hat off and dabbing my sweaty forehead. "Aren't you going to get in trouble?" A soft voice whispered from down below. I looked down at a bottom bunk. The soft eyed boy from yesterday stared up at me, his hair now shaved off completely.

I should have kicked him for talking to me like that, but instead I decided to be truthful. "Not if anyone doesn't come in here, no."

The boy nodded slightly. "I would be afraid to talk to you," he said his voice very shy. "I felt like you were sort of different though, like you had a respect for human lives. Maybe I'm wrong. I don't know." He shrugged and looked away, resting his chin in his hands.

I raised a brow, confused. This boy was acting as though I was one of them. He was talking to me as one would normally. Who was this kid? How could he tell these things about me so quickly?


	4. Three: Eyes

The next morning I was abruptly woken up with a shove to my arm. "Get up," one of my partners said. His name was Peter, and he had a scowl that never went away. That was all I knew about him. "It's time to wake the pigs from their pens."

I pulled myself out of bed, lazily tossing on my uniform. The other men scoffed at me, and my laziness, but I was too tired to care. As we all headed out towards the bunks, I listened in on their conversations.

"He's conquering more every day," one of them said. "Just think. Soon the whole world might be in his power."

"Unless America joins," another replied in a thick German accent. "Then we are all screwed for good."

Quietly, I commented on the matter. "America will join. There is no doubt about that."

Everyone stopped walking and stared at me. The man who spoke before me grinned a yellow grin. I looked away, disgusted. "Oh, you really think so? What makes you so sure? Even Germany can scare those little Americans out of their panties." The other men snickered in amusement.

"Americans have good hearts," I answered, raising my brow. "It is no doubt they will find what we are doing immoral, and want to put it to an end. War, or no war. Not to mention, the Japanese."

The rest of them exchanged glances. "It's no doubt that you'd side with them, wouldn't you? You're always weeping in the bathrooms after someone gets shot. We all hear you. Poor little man," he said, shoving me backwards. I regained my composure. "Now shut up, and keep walking, or we'll shoot you along with your stupid Jews."

I knew they wouldn't do it. I worked well at the concentration camps, and I wasn't a Jew. They would keep me around, that was for sure. As we walked inside the bunkers, a Sgt. began to yell orders at them. The skinny men rose from their bunks and rushed outside, running around in circles. "Strip, you filthy pieces of shit!" One of the guards shouted as men began to stop and tear their clothes off.

I looked down. This was in humane. I had no right to be watching any of this. And yet, it went on. The naked men continued to run, and run and run. One even fell down dead. And once it was all over, I rushed to the restroom, and I wept.

"Bread," I said, flopping a piece down on a plate to one of the men. "That's the meal today." I continued to toss rock hard pieces onto dirty metal plates. The men looked at it with greed, however. I couldn't stand to watch them devour it.

Once more I was sentenced to bunk duty. It was sickening to watch them chew the pieces of bread between their rotting teeth, knowing it was the only meal they'd get today. "You're sad," I heard someone say to me. I turned me head to see the same boy from yesterday, only a foot away from me. He smiled lightly, and bit into his bread.

"Why are you talking to me?" I asked harshly. "I ought to toss you to the floor and whip you."

"You won't though," he said through a mouthful of good. He looked at me with large green eyes. I stared back at him intently, waiting for him to continue. "You're different from everyone, remember?"

I scoffed, nodding. "Oh, yes, I forgot. You're a smart Jew. Very few of those."

He frowned, setting his plate down on an empty bunk. I knew it was the boy who passed away this morning's bunk. The boy caught me staring at it. "He was very nice," he said quietly. "He was just too weak. You ran him too much."

"I did nothing of the sort," I snapped, angry that he blamed it on me.

"See?" The boy smiled once more. "You are sad."

Furiously I shoved him backwards. "Who the hell do you think you are, talking to me like that?" His eyes grew wide suddenly as I regained his balance. "Filthy homosexual. Go back to your bunk, and don't speak to me ever again, or I'll personally take you outside and drive a bullet through your head myself."

The boy stared at me for a few moments, and then walked back quietly to his bunk. No one else dared to breathe another word. I felt sorry for the things I had said to him, but it was for the best. If he would have continued the conversation with me, he would feel it would be okay to do the same with any other officer. And he would be dead in no time. Something was soothing about this boy, and I found myself wanting him to live. Perhaps it was because he was better company than the men I considered my partners.

I recalled his large green eyes staring at me before he walked away. They looked sad, but hopeful. It was as though he were whispering to me; _It's all going to end soon. _And honestly, I hoped it would.


	5. Four: Friends

The next morning I ate with the other guards. The rest of the men were waking up the Jews. I asked kindly to not be there for it. My stomach wasn't feeling too well, and I didn't know if I could handle watching and not throw up. I figured it would be best if I just ate inside today.

"Your hair is getting lighter," one of the men teased.

"Too much stress watching these Jews every day?" Another one asked. I looked up at them, and then continued to eat my soup. I also wasn't in the mood to be pestered for having a decent heart today. "I don't blame you. They're disgusting to look at. I feel my own hair getting gray because of it."

I nodded, shrugging my shoulders. "You're young, guard. How old are you anyways?" A new man I had never seen before questioned me. His face was shaped like a rock, his eyes small. His teeth were crooked like a German's teeth were crooked, but his eyes were Italian. So was his accent.

"I'm old enough," I said, not wanting to continue the conversation.

"Old enough?" He chuckled. "Alright, you're old enough to be working here. You're too skinny though. You look too tired. Maybe we should throw you out there with those Jews. Make you run too."

I stood up then, and walked away. I heard them laughing at me, but for some reason I didn't mind it. I knew I was a better person than them. I headed out the doors, and blocked my vision from the naked men running around in circles and the women hiding from the sight. I headed towards the bunks I watched and sat down pathetically on a bed before everyone came jogging back. Those men were right. I was weak.

I heard feet rush in towards the room, grabbing their pajamas and putting them back on. I decided not to look at any of them, I felt it rude. Someone was at my side though, and I couldn't help but look at him. "Hello," he said his voice quiet. He was dressed in his typical striped suit. It was the boy from earlier. "Can I ask your name?"

"It's Kagan Schmidt," I mumbled, not seeming to care anymore.

"My name is James," he said smiling. "It's not German, I know. It's British. My dad is from England. How old are you Mr. Schmidt?"

"I'm twenty one."

Sure, I could tell him, and not my colleagues. Something was wrong with that, but I didn't pay much attention to it. The boy was kind of interesting, in a way.

"Me too," he said, smiling. I found it miraculous how much the boy smiled around here. He seemed to be the only one. I lifted my head up, our eyes meeting.

"Why do you smile so much?"

He stopped smiling then, his big green eyes a bit more wide than before. They were still full or life; full of hope. It was puzzling. "I only smile around you," he confessed. "You're interesting. I like you." Any other man would have beaten him to death, but he was saying to me what I was thinking about him. "You're very handsome too. I don't think you should be working here. It's making you too skinny."

"Oh, right," I said, suddenly remembering. "You're the homosexual."

The boy didn't say anything, he just stood there. The other men were rushing outside to perform their duties. Before the boy in front of me ran off, he cracked a quick smile. "Glad to see you don't mind enough to kill me," he said.

And he was right. I didn't mind too much.

~.~.~.~

Later during dinner time, I took on bunk duty again, but only because I wanted to talk to James once more. I wanted to know who he was, and I couldn't explain why. It would be nice to have someone to talk to around here, even if I wasn't supposed to be talking to them.

We had been talking for a little while now. I knew he had a brother who died a few months ago, and that he didn't know where his parents were. He also had a pet dog named Scrap, but the Nazis took him too. "Scrap was a great dog," he said, facing me on his bed. The other Jews watched us talk in awe. A few even began to join our conversation.

"I bet they shot him dead," one said, grumbling.

"Don't say that!" James said defensively. "Even if they did, God took his soul to heaven."

"God?" One laughed. "You still believe in that old myth?"

"If there was no God, how could I make a friend in this place?" He said, motioning towards me. A warm sort of feeling flooded my stomach. He considered us friends.

"Don't say that," I mumbled. "They'll shoot you, and they'll try and shoot me, but I can't die. I'll tell them you're a homosexual freak who kept hitting on me, and I'll be okay." I didn't want to do a thing, but I needed to stay alive.

"How come?" James asked curiously, leaning his chin in his hands.

"My brother died in battle. I'm the only family my mother has left now. She's old, she needs someone or she'll die alone." My mouth tasted bitter. "I love her too much." The boy stayed silent for a while. I knew it was unfair of me to say such a thing, with everyone around me not knowing where their parents were, but like I said. I loved her too much. "And anyways, I just don't want to die."

James grinned again. "You said you'd tell them I was hitting on you?" I nodded, giving a little grin. "Well," he shrugged. "In that defense, I do think you're cute."

"Thanks," I laughed. "Thanks very much."

"Why are you treating him like this?" I heard the man from earlier say. "How come you don't want to rip his head off?"

I stayed silent for a while. "I'm not here because I hate you people. I'm here because I trained for this, and I was sent here." They stayed silent for a while. "Besides, he's gay," I said. "He can't help that he's flirting with me."

James' perked up. "Finally, someone understands me!"

The man began to laugh at this and then James started, and then I was and eventually we couldn't seem to control ourselves. I felt infinite then, and I couldn't deny that I was sort of flirting back.


	6. Five: Kiss

That night I had to watch the bunks. It seemed no one wanted me at their station anymore, so they all sent me to the bunk. The most boring job, apparently, but so far it was my favorite. All I had to do at night was walk around and make sure no one left or went in. I was on one side, and another guard on the other. Occasionally I'd peek in and make sure everyone was in their beds. The bodies were all crowded together like little packs of toothpicks, or something. Every time I would look in and check, James would still be awake, staring at me, then he would smile and give me a wave, which I would secretly give him back with a scuff of my boot. Just in case the other guard noticed.

It was getting late, the moon was highest in the sky, so I figured it was around one. The other guard was yawning and I figured he would fall asleep soon, and me too. I felt my eyes drooping more and more, and I thought I really would fall asleep until I heard a slight creak on a bed. Only, it was a long creak. I turned my head to see if someone was getting up. I didn't see anyone though, but I noticed that James was missing.

My heart beat suddenly raised and I walking about to walk in and go and look for him, but I suddenly felt to small hands on my shoulders spin me around. James lifted a finger his lips, shushing me before I screamed. I mouth to him angrily; 'What are you doing?' He looked at me with those big green eyes, like I should have known.

He mouthed something back, but I didn't catch it. 'What?' I mouthed. He said it slower. This time I could make out the words. 'I'm. Going. To. Kiss. You.' Before I could hit him off, his thin, but somehow strong hands pinned me to the wooden wall of the bunk house, his lips suddenly meeting mine.

I stood, awkwardly, with my eyes open, watching him kiss me with some sort of hidden desire. I didn't understand what was happening, but I knew I had to get him off me; and quickly. I shoved him backwards, and motioned for him to go back inside. He shook his head. I nodded. "Go," I whispered harshly, then motioned a gunshot going through my head.

He got the point and started heading back inside, but he stopped in his tracks. "What?" I asked, annoyed, whipping my mouth off. He looked at me and smiled, and once again, grabbed my face in his boney hands and kissed me again. Then he rushed back inside to his bunk.

It was a miracle no one saw that. I looked around, checking to make sure no one was there, and the coast was clear. My lips were tingling sort of, I could still feel his saliva on my mouth. I brushed it off with the back of my hand.

Yet, a strange feeling was rising in my stomach. Did I enjoy that? I found myself a bit restless now, completely awake and someone I felt happy. I knew where I was standing, in this death camp, and I felt happy. I felt whole, and I couldn't think of any reason for it besides the kiss.

I sunk to the ground, burying my face in my hands.


	7. Six: Threat

"What are you shaking about?" One of the guards eyed me keenly the next morning at breakfast. I looked down to see the metal tray I was carrying, that which possessed my food was rocking back and forth in my hands. "It's not even the dead of winter yet."

"It's winter," I cursed softly. "That's reason for shaking enough."

The guard narrowed his eyes at me one last time before I rushed off, sitting pathetically down at a table, away from the others. A few minutes later a general approached me, his hands tightly folded behind his back. "You look distressed, private."

I shot up from my chair, stumbling over the bench as I did so. I saluted him, praising Hitler. My hand was still shaking. "Not in the least, sir."

"Sit down," he ordered. I did as told. "Have you ever been with a woman?"

My eyes shot up to him. His face was calm, so I presumed he didn't know anything about the evening before. I nodded, silently. He sat down. "I'm thinking about giving you leave. You've been working so dutifully. And, you seem like you're not getting enough sleep." I saw him glance at my hands. "I think a night out, with a nice girl could do you some good."

I shook my head. "That's very kind of you, sir, but I have no where to go outside of here."

"I'll rent you a hotel room."

I wanted to protest, but maybe he was right. Maybe I really did need to get away from this place. I knew that was for sure, but maybe it was more obvious than what I thought. I nodded my head. "Thank you sir, I'd like that very much, sir."

~.~.~.~

When I walked out of the quarters, I noticed a figure by the gate. Lifting my gun to my hand, I rushed over to it, looking down at it's face. "Tried to run away," someone said behind me. I recognized the coldness in his voice to be another 'soldier' if you want to call us that. "I shot him down." He laughed. "He was so weak, I could have just kicked him."

"Put him with the others," I said, my heart tugging at itself. "He'll stink up the place."

I turned on my heels, not looking at the man's face. I was scared he would be able to tell that I was actually sad about the situation. A chance for freedom was destoryed. That's never something to be proud of.

I walked away, and looking across the camp, I saw jews everywhere, sitting and looking at one another, none of them talking. Most of them were running, some of them were heading across the camp to end their lives. They were heading towards the ovens. I looked away.

I saw James, and nothing clicked in my head instantly. He looked up, stared at me for about a second, then looked away. No smile was planted on his face today. His face was sinking in more and more each day. I could see the bones forming in his arms. I shuddered. Soon, he would be nothing but a skeleton.

I walked over to the area, to monitor, sitting down on a bench lazily. The soldier next to me sighed heavily. "These people can't work well at all, I'll tell you." I grunted in response, sticking a cigarette in my mouth. He took one from my pack. "Especially this guy." He pointed to James. "It's like he's distracted. I always catch him glancing off, and I have to hit him." He laughed. "Doesn't mind me a bit, but sometimes I feel bad for the kid. You know, because he didn't choose to have his religion."

"Don't hit him," I said, puffing out smoke.

The soldier looked at me with surprise. "What do you mean don't hit him? He's not doing his job."

"I'm just suggesting, if you feel bad, don't hit him."

"You're right," the man said. "I should just kill him."

James looked over at us then, his eyes wide. My heart leaped out of my chest as I looked back at him. For once, for the first time, he looked scared. His hands dropped the cup he was holding. Embarassed, he scooped it up, and looked down into his now empty drink. The man next to me laughed. "I scared the shit out of him, didn't I?"

"Yes, you did." I said, rolling my eyes. Luckily he didn't' notice. I heard him cock his gun, and point it at James. James' back was turned from us, so he didn't see. Softly, I peeled the gun from his fingers. "It's going to be a long day," I sighed. "Don't make it longer."

"Ah, I guess you're right. Everything's grey around here. Too many people dying, but that's the way it's got to be. That kid, his friend was just sent to the gas chambers this morning. I guess that's why he's sad."

I looked at James again. His friend, probably the boy he was sharing the bunk with was gun. He couldn't talk to me. He couldn't see the women. What new friends would he make? The charm in his eyes was gone. How could he make friends without a personality?

"Excuse me private," I said, leaving finally. It was then that I noticed I didn't know anyone's name, except for James.


	8. Seven: Shot

Later that day, I had to shoot someone. I had to line him up against a wall and shoot him. When no one was looking at me, before I pulled the trigger, I closed my eyes. He was young. He reminded me of James.

I looked around at the empty area. Everyone was back in their bunks, tired, about to sleep. It was dark now. I was practically alone, besides the guards on the edges of the camp. I sighed, ducking behind a bunker and peeling off my hat.

Finally, I was alone.

Yet, I thought too soon. I heard feet shuffle beside me. I shot off the wall to look at the face of my intruder. "How did you get over here?" I asked, as softly as possible. I couldn't even hear myself.

"I said I needed to pee," James whispered, a small smile forming on his face.

"Then go," I said. I crossed my arms over my chest and faced forward, leaning back against the wall. My mind had to forget about that kiss. It had to. I had been thinking about it all day.

He frowned then. I saw it out of the corner of my eye. "I don't like it when you're mean." I looked over at him, my eyes easing up.

"I have to be."

He shook his head. "No you don't. You saved me today by taking that gun, but you didn't save me when you pushed me away last night."

"Stop talking," I ordered. "You're going to get caught. I won't tell the truth. I'll lie."

"No you won't," he said quickly. Our eyes met again, and he smiled. "Like I said before. I know you. You wouldn't lie about something like that. Maybe you would, but soon enough you'd feel bad and turn yourself in."

"Shut up!" I hissed, grabbing him by the neck and shoving him up against the wall. I glared at him. His large, green eyes stared back at me without emotion. I remembered how his hair was when I first saw him. It wasn't cropped, it was neat, and long. I twitched, liking it better. I noticed his face turning blue, letting him go from my grisp. "Go piss, and then go back to your bunk."

"Not before you kiss me again," he whispered, grabbing my hand. I yanked it away angrily. He stood, motionless. It was like he was waiting for something.

"Go," I said, shoving him away. Once again, he stood motionless. "I said go!" I charge towards him, but instead of pushing him, my hands went for his face, grapsing them in my palms. I didn't know what I was doing, but I didn't stop myself. I pressed my lips against his, feeling his body collapse in my arms.

He was shaking now, and he shoved me backwards this time, so no one would see. I pulled away from him, watching him almost fall to the ground. He was took weak. I scooped him up quickly before he met the ground. I could feel tears stinging my eyes. "Why are you doing this?" I whispered pathetically, my voice cracking.

"Because you're perfect," he said, his voice cracking as well. "I don't care who you salute, or wh you kill, I know who you are. To me, you're perfect."

"Shut up," I said, whiping my eyes with the back of my hand. "Just be quiet, someone will hear you. Go back to your bunk. Don't come to me ever again."

"I can't promise you that."

"Promise me."

"Without you, I'll die." He murmuered pathetically. "You're the only thing that's keeping me going in this god forsaken place."

I got him off with a clamp of my hand over his mouth. "_With_ me, you'll die."

James looked me in the eye, intensely. "Then let me die… with you." It was then when I realized that I was actually holding him. I was holding this scrawny, deathly boy, with shining green eyes. I actually felt him too, unlike everything else in the world. I held him tighter, his crying face now in my chest.


	9. Eight: Snow

Snow started falling the next morning. More darkness to match darkness. Everything was white. Skin, bones, snow, walls, more snow. Everything was snow except our black uniforms, and our red swatstika badges. My fingers itched to rip it off. Then again, I didn't want to go into the gas chambers any more than the Jews did.

I noticed James was even more unrestless today. He would walk closer and closer to me, his eyes more hollow than I'd ever seen then. A few officers noticed, shoving him away, knocking him to the ground. They kicked him and slapped him. They even drug him towards the gas chambers, but I managed to get him out of it. I angrily whispered in his ear when we were walking back to stay away from me. Deep down, I knew he wouldn't.

I carried on throughout the day. Only, I was summoned later on to the Major's room. Carefully entering, I sat down in the seat before him, of course saluting without thought. "You've been working very diligently, as I have told you before."

I nodded. I only wanted to get out of there.

"There's been a few reports however about a certain prisoner." He stopped short, looking up from his paper to inspect my face. I tried my hardest to stay neutral. I think it worked. "I'm not sure what you have to say on the matter, but I've heard he's been following you." The Major gave out a short chuckle. "It's strange. I've never heard of such a thing before."

"He's a homosexual," I explained carefully. "I assumed he was merely fascinated."

Another low laugh. "I expect so too." He leaned forward on his desk. I felt my palms begin to sweat, but I didn't move an inch. "Does he bother you? Does he make you sweat?" My eyes grew wide. He was interrogating me. "Do I make you sweat?"

"Sir, I would like you to get rid of him," I rushed out quickly. My mind was congratulating me on making myself look and act more like a man, but my heart was wilting. I could feel it falling over in my chest. "He has been coming too close to me. I wanted to tell you first hand before they sent him to the gas chambers." There was a slight pause as I tried to gather myself for what I was going to say next. "I want you to make him learn his lesson."

The Major's eyebrows were shot up, but he wore a grin on his face. He stood up, saluting Hitler. He uttered more words. He shook my hands. More words. The whole time a buzzing noise was ringing in my head. He was going to beat him, maybe even to death. Then after than, he would die, or die again in the chambers. It was all my fault.

But what could I do about it? This was war. Nothing was fair in war. Nothing was fair. Either way, he would die. Whether it was sickness, hunger, brutality or gas- he would die. And no matter what, I would die with him.

~.~.~.~

That night I wasn't assigned to bunker duty. The men decided to keep me away from James. Of course, it was the furthest thing from what I wanted. I stood on the edge of the gate, leaning against it, my gun heavily weighing in both of my hands. I tossed it around, polishing it, staring at it… wanting to throw it over the gate.

I was shivering as snow fell onto my black suit. I watched it carefully. Everything was so quiet.

Out of nowhere, a gun shot rang through the forest. I looked slowly towards the woods, wrapping my jacket furthur around me. It was going to be a long night.


	10. Epilouge

Snow started falling the next morning. More darkness to match darkness. Everything was white. Skin, bones, snow, walls, more snow. Everything was snow except our black uniforms, and our red swatstika badges. My fingers itched to rip it off. Then again, I didn't want to go into the gas chambers any more than the Jews did.

I noticed James was even more unrestless today. He would walk closer and closer to me, his eyes more hollow than I'd ever seen then. A few officers noticed, shoving him away, knocking him to the ground. They kicked him and slapped him. They even drug him towards the gas chambers, but I managed to get him out of it. I angrily whispered in his ear when we were walking back to stay away from me. Deep down, I knew he wouldn't.

I carried on throughout the day. Only, I was summoned later on to the Major's room. Carefully entering, I sat down in the seat before him, of course saluting without thought. "You've been working very diligently, as I have told you before."

I nodded. I only wanted to get out of there.

"There's been a few reports however about a certain prisoner." He stopped short, looking up from his paper to inspect my face. I tried my hardest to stay neutral. I think it worked. "I'm not sure what you have to say on the matter, but I've heard he's been following you." The Major gave out a short chuckle. "It's strange. I've never heard of such a thing before."

"He's a homosexual," I explained carefully. "I assumed he was merely fascinated."

Another low laugh. "I expect so too." He leaned forward on his desk. I felt my palms begin to sweat, but I didn't move an inch. "Does he bother you? Does he make you sweat?" My eyes grew wide. He was interrogating me. "Do I make you sweat?"

"Sir, I would like you to get rid of him," I rushed out quickly. My mind was congratulating me on making myself look and act more like a man, but my heart was wilting. I could feel it falling over in my chest. "He has been coming too close to me. I wanted to tell you first hand before they sent him to the gas chambers." There was a slight pause as I tried to gather myself for what I was going to say next. "I want you to make him learn his lesson."

The Major's eyebrows were shot up, but he wore a grin on his face. He stood up, saluting Hitler. He uttered more words. He shook my hands. More words. The whole time a buzzing noise was ringing in my head. He was going to beat him, maybe even to death. Then after than, he would die, or die again in the chambers. It was all my fault.

But what could I do about it? This was war. Nothing was fair in war. Nothing was fair. Either way, he would die. Whether it was sickness, hunger, brutality or gas- he would die. And no matter what, I would die with him.

~.~.~.~

That night I wasn't assigned to bunker duty. The men decided to keep me away from James. Of course, it was the furthest thing from what I wanted. I stood on the edge of the gate, leaning against it, my gun heavily weighing in both of my hands. I tossed it around, polishing it, staring at it… wanting to throw it over the gate.

I was shivering as snow fell onto my black suit. I watched it carefully. Everything was so quiet.

Out of nowhere, a gun shot rang through the forest. I looked slowly towards the woods, wrapping my jacket furthur around me. It was going to be a long night.


	11. AN

In the following years, things got worse. And then they got better. I found a family, a family I loved. Occassionally I would wake up with nightmares. My wife would hold me and ask; "Who is James?"

They let me go on account of my forced nature. We all knew I could have prevented it. In my mind though, I thought it was better to be living then to be dead for someone else. How wrong I was.

In the end, I turned to judism. It's ironic, but I know some other men who did it too. In retrospect, we were only doing it to protect ourselves.

Sometimes I thought I would see James walking down the street. I would stop in my tracks to stare at him, but there would always be something out of place. A strange of hair too long, too deep of green eyes. I knew he was watching me though, whenever the man I was looking at would tip his hat and smile. Deep down, I wanted to believe it was James.

I was standing there that night, by the gate. I heard a gun shot. I had no idea it was James. I didn't say anything about it when they told me the next day. I didn't really have that much to say.

In the end, I didn't really have much to say at all.

The End


End file.
